A unique festival in the world
spreading the colours of Rangoli
A festival of happiness
that we celebrate as Holi.
Forgetting old reprisals
we pick the colours
and throw them on the friends
painting new revisals.
Red blue green and orange
crimson, violet and yellow,
pick up any of them in your fist
and spray them on a good fellow.
Colours of the flowers
and the colours of the birds
are wavelengths of light
coded in unique words.
The word was there before
and the word was light.
We belong to the same source,
there is no need to fight.
Holi is named after Holika
the diabolic aunt of Prahlad.
How goodness wins over evil
is reflected in that ballad.
-
Author:
Max (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 7th, 2023 00:03
- Comment from author about the poem: If you want to hear abot the tale in short, please see (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gHLqOb05Isk ). It can also be read here... https://www.bbc.co.uk/teach/school-radio/audio-stories-holi-the-story-of-holika-and-prahad/zm44bdm
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 17
Offline)
Comments1
Dear friend I have seen videos of this celebration, and it has always seemed an expression of immense joy and commradery. Your second last stanza says it all "we belong to the same source". Thank you so much for sharing!
Thank You Maam! I know it's true.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.